


To Yangsan and back (to my love!)

by din_ari



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: COUPZI_FIVED, Coke, Fluff and Humor, HAPPY ANIVERSARY TO MY LOVES, Humor, Jicheol, M/M, Obviously coke is superior have you seen chinalines ad and Jihoon in general, Tired Jicheol, attempt (keyword) at humor, idolverse, pepsi vs coke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/din_ari/pseuds/din_ari
Summary: All Jihoon wants is some coke.And not a screeching, rolling pin brandished, exorcist named Seungcheol.(Alternate title: Pepsi machine broke, thirty litres of coke? XD)Also I suck at summariesAnd you can read the ending in anyway you see fit ;)





	To Yangsan and back (to my love!)

He stands there, rolling pin outstretched and trembling in his hold.   
“Release him demon!” He slashes the wooden weapon through the air, “release my Jihoonie and return him to me!” Seungcheol all but screeches his demands at the wide-eyed boy. Jihoon can’t even laugh, Seungcheol’s  _ actually _ being  _ serious _ .    
  
Jihoon slowly nudges the fridge door close behind him and tries to side step Seungcheol, who is still brandishing the rolling pin— Jihoon is scared, he’s seen the biceps on that man and the power they hold.    
  
“Drop the Pepsi, or I will not hesitate to use this weapon!” To prove his point, Seungcheol promptly twirls the rolling pin in an arc, screaming progressively until he stills with a final yell, his pin pointed straight at the offending drink and his other arm in a strange depiction of a salute— pointed in the same direction.    
  
Jihoon feels rather threatened.    
  
It’s ass o’clock at midnight and all Jihoon wanted was a drink, filled with those sweet and simple carbohydrates and other (chemical) condiments, to keep his brain going before it committed murder on itself after the tenth rerun of his incomplete composition— he’s been working in the studio since dawn and now it’s nearly the next dawn.    
  
And that’s when he decided to scour the fridge, after that particular tenth rerun, and take the first dark, carbonated liquid he could register in his ‘edging-on-insanity’ state of mind.   
And, that’s when the screeching began, before he could even bring the cold bottle to his lips and take a  _ sip _ .    
  
All he wanted— all he  _ needed _ was. _ A. Sip _ .    
  
_ ‘What, in all of bloody hell, is Seungcheol even doing?’  _ _  
_ And, it’s with this thought and the recent memories as to why Jihoon was standing where he was, being at the fridge with a  _ Pepsi _ in his grasp and having a hysterical hyung trying to exorcise him with a rolling pin; he thinks,  _ ‘screw it all to hell,’ _ lifts the bottle to his lips, while never breaking the gaze he is sharing with Seungcheol, and tossing the third of the liquid that was left, down his throat— and Seungcheol screams. 

 

Screams bloody murder. 

  
With a satisfying pop, Jihoon bins the empty bottle and leaves Seungcheol standing there, slack-jawed in his ripped jeans and long sleeved tee, and the rolling pin must have slipped out of his hands at some point during the tense exchange,  ‘cause its slowly rolling on the floor innocently bumping into Seungcheol’s bare foot.   
  
To say Jihoon was utterly annoyed was an understatement. And he rarely gets annoyed at  _ Seungcheol _ of all people. To make matters worse, the Pepsi tasted like shit. He needs a thirty litre coke, pronto.   
  
“I’ll be in the studio.” Is all he says, it’s delivered cold, his leaving remark like the Pepsi he just downed.    
~~   
  
It’s his, maybe, hundredth rerun and Jihoon has officially lost it. It's now actual ass o’clock in the morning and way past dawn, he’s lost his sense of time, and he’s lost his sleep too. It’s at this, maybe, hundredth play through that he gets a visitor, totally unnoticed by Jihoon.    
  
Seungcheol beeps into the studio, not silent (the door beeps too loudly and obnoxiously before anyone can take foot in the studio), but evidently quiet enough not to rouse the attention of the small composer.    
  


He clicks the door shut behind him and stealthily sheds his windbreaker, gently resting it on the sofa behind the main control board and monitor— where Jihoon, trapped in his own little world, ears between a set of black headphones, sits, hunched over the mouse and keyboard, one hand supporting his tilted head and the other clicking listlessly on the mouse.    
  
Jihoon is tired.    
  
He’s exhausted and it’s obvious to anyone that he isn’t making any progress in his work.    
  


It’s in the sloping lines of his slight shoulders, Seungcheol can see that Jihoon is much past his mental capacity to continue staring at the monitor in the hopes of inspiration bursting through his overworked noggin.    
  
Seungcheol takes out the heavy bottle of thirty litre coke from its carrier with a huff, takes the short stride towards the chair where Jihoon is perched, and sets the bottle down at Jihoon’s hand. Jihoon startles at the motion and with wide eyed wonder looks at the gargantuan size of the coke bottle before him. Seungcheol takes this opportunity to seize control of the mouse, saving the piece and promptly shutting down the program and the computer. For extra measure he flips the outlet source shut and accidentally bathes the room in darkness. It’s romantic, but Seungcheol quickly flips the power outlet back on.    
  


He’s met with a tired, but still smirking Jihoon, who glances at the large bottle of brown, bubbly liquid, in its thirty litres of fine glory, and back again to Seungcheol who stands above him.   
  
“You know, I actually thought about wanting a thirty litre coke but that was just a figment of my imagination, I didn’t think they actually sold thirty fucking litres of actual coke.”    
  
Seungcheol just grins (way too fond to be anything but  _ fond) _ , he knows his Jihoonie a bit too well. Instead of replying and boasting about his adventures of dragging his manager hyung out of the dorm and forcing him to accompany him on his, surely, impossible mission of getting a thirty litre coke at 12am in Seoul, taking three train lines nearly to Busan, but not getting that far, stopping at Yangsan over in the Geongsangnam-do province, where he had finally found the cola manufacturing building after too many bus rides and promptly did his work to get what his Jihoonie could only dream of— A thirty litre bottle of beautiful and diabetes-inducing brown liquid known as Coca Cola. Instead he goes to open the bottle on the studio desk, but a pale and slender hand stops him.   
  
“I could literally kiss you right now but I’m too tired, and I’m gonna share my bed with this gorgeous thing.” Jihoon says cryptically— Seungcheol is a bit confused because he said that while looking at him, not the coke bottle. Seungcheol holds his breath, for no known reason, and waits for Jihoon to continue.   
“Maybe we should sleep.”   
Jihoon, instead of hauling the coke bottle into his arms, ready for a good nights (mornings?) sleep, clutches at Seungcheol’s hand and drags him back to the dorm to sleep. He leaves the thirty litre bottle of coke at the studio.    
  
A beautiful and unmissable  reminder of Seungcheol and just how large his love really is.

**Author's Note:**

> My second fic!
> 
> IT IS COUPZI MONTH AND NEARLY THERE FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND I LOVE JICHEOL FAM FOR BEING AWESOME.
> 
> I feel like I should contribute if I can. And I can, so here is my contributions huhu
> 
> Thank you for reading my work!  
> \- @4643ariani (look at my shameless twit promo yeet ^¥^)


End file.
